


My father's love was always strong, my mother's glamour lives on and on

by batcarolines



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Pennyworth (TV 2019)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Mutual Pining, making Gotham great again, the OCs are the parents and they're not that important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batcarolines/pseuds/batcarolines
Summary: While trying to make Gotham a safer place, Thomas and Martha fall for each other.





	My father's love was always strong, my mother's glamour lives on and on

**Author's Note:**

> So a bunch of things about this work:  
\- not beta'd  
\- the setting is... weird, it's basically a mix of periods: I wanted to encompass the glamour and privilege of the aristocracy of the 1800s with influences of Golden Age Hollywood, 20s' old money snobbishness and also a little bit of a vintage background feeling of the 50s-60s - in conclusion, let your imagination flow because even I don't know when this is taking place  
\- old rich people in this fic are super condescending, and they may or may not talk like Downton Abbey characters  
\- yes, I realize that the probability of the heirs of the most influential families in Gotham meeting for the first time well into adulthood is very... unlikely, but just go with it  
\- Thomas is around 30, Martha's around 24 (or is it the mustache that makes him look older?) and I made Martha a red-head because I love Amy Adams and I was sad about her Emmy nom snub  
\- this entire piece was inspired by a sudden wave of emo feelings about Martha Wayne that hit me out of the blue, so there's a lot of gushing over her on Thomas' side (this fic can hold so much self-projecting in it, I'm gay - sue me)  
\- never really wrote a straight fic before, this was interesting  
\- this was supposed to be a long one-shot, but I decided to split it into chapters because there's no way I'll ever finish this  
\- Martha's background was inspired by @doodlesaresketcheswithnoodles art on Tumblr  
\- the fic was loosely inspired by Pennyworth (2019's show) and its absolutely PERFECT casting for the Waynes  
\- shout-out to @zorallens on Twitter for being my partner in crime in keeping this ship alive, this one's for you, BatMommy

The soft piano notes filled the Manor's grand hall walls with music, as it blended with the murmur of whispers. Thomas picked a champagne glass from the nearest waiter he didn't recognize and he set off forward, sipping the beverage with almost every step. He politely greeted each guest with a courteous head nod or a firm handshake, thinking that his mother would no doubt chastise him for being late anyway. He noticed her waving at him from a small circle of other socialites further on. He waved back, acknowledging, and straightened his bowtie before sending a polite ‘Excuse me’ towards the nearest guest and setting off in her direction.

\- You look lovely tonight, Mother. - He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and immediately turned to the small circle of middle-aged socialites that gathered around his mother. - Mrs. Elliot, Mrs. Kane, Mrs. Cobblepot, you all look beautiful.

The ladies chuckled and exchanged knowing glances.

\- Such courtesies almost excuse being late, Thomas. Almost. - Laura Wayne raised her eyebrow, eying her son suspiciously and yet maintaining a somehow apologetic tone, doubtless aimed at the other women.

\- Apologies, Mother. The hours at the hospital keep on getting longer every day.

\- That silly little job of yours. I honestly think that old doctor Whatshisface is using you, dear. - His mother started yet another one of her endless lectures, knowing damn well that the other ladies would provide unwavering support for her arguments, set in their ways as strongly as her. - He’s found a young, eager and upper-class man so he burdens you with his own responsibilities.

The brood of old-money hens nodded in agreement, making Thomas forget himself and roll his eyes. It was Mrs. Elliot who spoke first:

\- Thomas, darling, I honestly don’t understand. You are to inherit the family company. That’s responsibility enough, why trouble yourself with such follies, dear?

\- The company essentially runs itself, Mrs. Elliot. And even if it didn’t, my father has people responsible for its management.

\- That still doesn’t explain why you’ve devoted so many years of your life to playing doctor. - His mother broke in, voicing the same complaints she’d expressed for years.

\- I want to feel useful, mother. I can’t stay home with you and father, hunting and attending balls forever.

Mrs. Kane was the one who chuckled at that, bringing the entire circle's attention to her.

\- Thomas, dear, you sound just like my daughter. So restless, so eager to prove yourself.

Thomas was intrigued upon hearing about this ambitious young woman. All the ladies his mother had been so desperately introducing to him over the years seemed to blend into one - polite, courteous, proper ladies, and yet Thomas never felt attracted to any of them. His father saw the potential of their fortunes, his mother was swayed by their pretty words (even though she was among the people who taught them the society ways at a very young age). Thomas wasn’t a stranger to female company - the numerous balls, socialite events, charity gatherings ever since he learned to walk, always called for courtesies, introductions, scripted flirtations, and dances. But he never felt a connection, he never felt love. Each woman was more beautiful than the other, each a mistress of conversation and a virtuoso of an instrument, and yet, Thomas always felt the hollowness of their words and no soul in the notes they played.

He wasn’t naive - he knew he would never marry for love, not truly. His parents’ marriage was partially arranged, and though the times have changed he still couldn’t bring a common, middle-class girl before his parents and expect their blessing.

Thomas was about to inquire further about the intriguing, rebellious daughter of Mrs. Kane when his father appeared in their little circle. He greeted his son and all the ladies, and after hailing the nearest waiter for a refill of his champagne glass, Patrick Wayne, the most powerful man in Gotham, became the center of attention.

Amidst the joking and surface-level courtesies, the head of the Wayne family briefly turned to his son:

\- Thomas, would you mind bringing the Wayne Oil documents from my study? I’m afraid I have to stay here and entertain these ladies.

Thomas nodded in acknowledgment, bid his farewells and set off in the direction of the exit, thankful for the opportunity to leave all the snobbishness behind. 

On his way out, Thomas absentmindedly put his empty champagne glass on the nearest tray of a passing waiter.

\- Are you quite alright, Master Wayne? - Alfred’s voice brought Thomas back to reality.

\- I’m fine. Are you enjoying yourself, Alfred?

The young butler chuckled.

\- I’m afraid the ball is not for me no enjoy, sir.

Thomas mentally scolded himself for being aloof and realized that the task given by his father was probably urgent. He excused himself and walked out of the grand ball hall through the massive wooden doors leading to the corridor.

The piano notes were muffled from behind the doors, the voices of Gotham’s elite almost quiet for once. Thomas traveled through his family home’s corridor, countless massive wooden doors on each side, leading to dining rooms and libraries and drawing rooms and countless others. He used to lose his way in the Manor when he was a child, stumbling through door to door desperately seeking another living soul - be it a servant or one of his parents.

These days, after living 30 years within Wayne Manor’s sturdy walls, he found his way to his father’s study easily.

Patrick Wayne’s haven was located at the end of one of the carpet-covered corridors, shielded by an army of historical armors, ranging from medieval Europe to feudal Japan. Souvenirs from his ancestors, these statues always made him feel uneasy.

Thomas was about to walk by the metal army and enter his father’s study when he heard a noise. With a sullen clunk, a helmet of one of the statues fell upon the ancient carpet of the corridor. It didn’t take long for Thomas to find the culprit.

\- Sorry. - A boy, no older than 10, with fiery ginger hair came from behind the statue, a truly apologetic look painted across his freckled face.

Thomas had to hold back laughter, the child looked absolutely appalled at his own doing.

\- It’s okay, truth be told I never was a big fan of King Arthur there. - He backed away from the door and kneeled before the scared child. - I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. - He smiled and the boy seemed to brighten up at the promise. - What’s your name?

\- Jacob! - Thomas turned to face the source of the voice. A young woman was running down the corridor towards them, the same fiery red hair framing her face. His mother, Thomas thought.

\- I think we’ve been caught, buddy. - This time it was Thomas who sent the boy an apologetic look, as he stood up to face the immediate wrath of the boy’s mother.

As the woman caught up with them, her eyes traveled from the boy to Thomas, a scornful look quickly turning into an apologetic gaze.

\- Mister Wayne, I’m so sorry about that. Jacob can’t be left alone for a minute it seems.

Thomas waved his hand dismissingly.

\- The statues are fine, your son has only recreated one of the thousands of ways I used to abuse them when I was his age, Mrs…?

\- Miss. Martha Kane. And that troublemaker is my little brother, Jacob. - She patted the boy's head and shook her own disapprovingly as the boy flashed his sister a full-on grin, showing off the empty holes in the place of his baby teeth.

Thomas eyed the woman carefully. She was too young to be the boy's mother, of course, Thomas scolded himself. Her thick ginger hair fell softly on her shoulders and back in gentle curls and her green eyes, despite scolding the boy, hid a genuine kindness. He could see the similarity to the elder Mrs. Kane, whom he spoke to before, both women radiating elegant yet powerful energy.

\- If there are any expenses, feel free to send the bill to Kane Manor, Mr. Wayne. - Jacob was already picking up the helmet from the carpet as Martha straightened up and faced Thomas.

\- It’s Thomas, please. And it really won’t be necessary. My father doesn’t pay the statues much mind, I doubt he would even notice if they were all gone, let alone if one was missing a helmet. - Thomas turned around to face the boy, took the helmet he was inspecting closely and put it on Jacob’s little head. The armor obscured the boy's eyes, but his huge grin underneath was clearly visible.

Martha Kane smiled at that, dimples showing off on her face and for the first time in his life, Thomas Wayne felt butterflies in his stomach.

Martha knocked on her brother’s head two times and reminded him of saying thank you, the echo of the knock distorting her words. The boy thanked Thomas enthusiastically with a ‘Thank you so much, Mister Wayne!’ and began running around the corridor, circling statues and pretending to be a knight.

\- He’s absolutely fascinated with all things military. It doesn't matter if it’s a medieval knight or a World War I memorabilia, Jacob knows everything from battle tactics to military structure. - Martha explained once both of them shifted their focus back to each other, leaving the boy to his own imaginary play. - Not the military discipline, though. - She added, eying the boy, making sure no more ancestral Wayne statues would fall his victims tonight.

\- I don’t think we’ve met before, Miss Kane. - Thomas inquired, leaving the part that he would absolutely remember if they have. - I know your parents well, I actually spoke with your mother, Mrs. Kane today, but I never had the occasion of meeting you.

Martha cringed at the mention of her mother but didn’t address it.

\- It’s Martha and we have met, actually. But I’m not surprised you don’t remember, it was a long time ago.

She must have seen the embarrassment painting on his face because she decided to take pity on him and explain:

\- I must have been about 10, you came to visit Kane Manor with your parents. That was before…

\- … before I went away to University, yes. I remember now.

\- Hopefully, my terrible courtesy also fled your mind. - Martha chuckled and Thomas started remembering the little girl that greeted him on the steps of her family’s Manor.

\- I was so fascinated by your choice. - She admitted which took Thomas by surprise. Seeing his expression triggered her to continue. - You wanted to make your own way, leave your own mark on the world, despite your family’s fortune.

\- You must be the first person that admires that choice. My parents still treat me like a leper every time I come home from my hospital shift.

Martha nodded her head knowingly, but before she could continue, Jacob tugged at the hem of her dress, urging her to kneel beside him, Thomas observed as the boy hugged his sister and whispered something in her ear, the oversized helmet, weighing down his little head. He stood with a hopeful expression on his face, as Martha rose to Thomas’ level again.

\- He wants you to play with him. - Thomas’ eyebrows rose in surprise but in a split second, he picked up another helmet from the dusted statues, roared: ‘I finally caught you, Knight!’ and started chasing Jacob down the corridor. The boy’s excited shrieks and Martha’s laughter blended into one and Thomas completely lost track of time, playing with Jacob, chasing him down the corridor and even ‘battling for the lady’s honor’ as the boy called running around his sister in circles.

Seeing Thomas’ exhaustion and overall ragged appearance of both of them, Martha finally stepped up.

\- Alright, Sir Jacob, I think both of you have had enough. - Panting, Thomas put away his helmet back in its place. Martha took off her brother’s and fuzzed his sweaty hair but seeing the disappointment on her brother’s exhausted face she put the helmet back on and added: - There’s ice cream in the ballroom.

The boy sprinted away from them, almost as if he hadn’t been running for the past half hour. Thomas chuckled at the sight of him running to claim his prize when he felt Martha’s hands on his bowtie.

She was focused on straightening it, trying to somehow fix his ruined appearance, not noticing how his heart started beating faster at her closeness. He was grateful when she spoke first, certain that he would stutter and stumble on his words if he were to speak.

\- Takes a lot of energy to keep my brother entertained. I swear, the kids at the House are not as demanding.

\- The House? - he asked, curious, clearing his voice first, as she still fumbled with the bowtie.

Martha furrowed her brows, Thomas couldn’t tell if it was a response to his question or the stubborn bowtie she was struggling with.

\- I… uh...I administer an orphanage. The Gotham Children’s House. My mom thinks it’s a waste of time, that work like that, any work really, doesn’t fit a young, upper-class woman. - There was bitterness in her words, but a hint of sadness as well. Thomas could tell the orphanage was a part of her, a part that her parents shunned.

\- I think it’s admirable. You’re giving your time and attention to the kids that need it the most. - He looked down and sent her a faint smile. She flashed her dimples at him again but quickly furrowed her brows again, shifting her focus to the bowtie.

\- My parents believe in helping the less fortunate only if it comes dressed neatly in a package of social gatherings or pompous charity events, where they all pat each other on the back boasting about all the good they’ve done for this city when in reality they never leave their Manors.

He was taken aback by her outburst, not because he didn’t agree with her (he did), but because he never heard a woman of their statue talk so openly, not checking any required socials quotas.

\- I prefer to act, Thomas. I spend time with the kids, I help in the kitchens, I clean the building. I meet with potential families, I arrange adoptions, and I go through so much paperwork and red tape, it’s unbelievable. They don’t boast about begging for funding to take sick kids to the doctor at the charity events.

She looked up to see his reaction, fear slowly creeping into her emerald eyes, afraid she might have stepped out of line, offended him somehow. He put his hand on her own fumbling with the bow tie, squeezing it reassuringly.

\- Now I’m the one who’s fascinated. - She gave him a gentle smile at that and when he was about to open his mouth and add something, she gave the bowtie a final squeeze, patted it and moved away from him. Only then did Thomas realize how close they were, their chest almost touching.

\- I should go make sure that Jacob didn’t eat all the ice cream in the Manor. - she started backing out in the hall’s direction, sending him a questioning look whether he wanted to join her.

He remembered about the quest his father sent him on and excused himself for a minute. He entered the study quickly, grabbed the suitcase on his father’s sturdy table and went back to join Martha in the corridor.

\- I was thinking… - he started as they set off down the corridor in the direction of the grand hall, walking side by side. - If you need to take the kids to the doctor, you can send them to me. Free of charge.

Her face lit up as gratefulness filled her shiny eyes. She grabbed his hand in two of her own and squeezed it.

\- You have no idea how much this means to me, Thomas. How much this will mean to the kids.

He smiled in response sqeezing her hands.

\- I think you’re a good person, Martha. And I want to help you.

When they opened the doors of the grand hall they spotted Jacob proudly presenting his new souvenir to their parents, all the while munching on ice cream.

\- Little Jacob has been telling us of your little adventure in the corridor. - Laura Wayne greeted them as Thomas and Martha approached their little circle. She either didn’t notice his disheveled appearance or brushed it off, pretending not to see it. Thomas handed his father the suitcase, ignoring Patrick Wayne’s grumble about taking so long.

Martha joined her parents and as she stood next to her mother, Thomas could clearly see the similarity.

\- I hope my daughter didn’t bore you to death with her little science project, Thomas dear. - Mrs. Kane gave him an apologetic look, ignoring Martha’s protests.

Thomas looked over at Martha, who was shaking her head disapproivngly at her mother.

\- Actually, I think that Miss Kane's work is admirable. I offered to help with medical expenses for the children.

His announcement stirred their little circle. Martha sent him a full-on smile, mouthing a ‘thank you’ while their parents sent each other strange looks. The orchestra started playing a waltz and Thomas seized the opportunity to get away from both the Waynes and the Kanes and extended his hand invitingly to the young Kane heiress.

\- May I have this dance, Miss Kane?

Martha did her best to hide a sly grin spreading on her face and she took his hand, throwing a quick ‘Of course, Mister Wayne’ before he led both of them to the dance floor. They could hear whispers among their parents as they left them behind.

Thomas took Martha in his arms, one hand holding her own, the other hovering above her waist, trying to maintain distance and respect. Martha put her own hand on his shoulder and before they fully started swaying to the rhythm of the waltz, she placed Thomas’ hand on her waist.

\- Do you like being a doctor, Thomas? - she asked, so close it was almost a whisper.

The Gotham elite seemed to vanish, there was only Martha Kane in Thomas’s eyes.

\- I saved a little girl’s life today. - He admitted. He never told his parents about his work, they either didn’t care or didn’t want to hear about their son’s disgraceful middle-class activities.

Martha’s eyes went wide and she furrowed her brows, expecting a story. There was a tiny wrinkle between her brows when she furrowed them, Thomas had to fight the urge to touch it and see it soften under his fingers.

\- The mother brought her in from the East End. There’s an infection spreading there, I’ve been telling Doctor Golding about it for weeks. These people live in conditions not fit for rats, and City Hall isn’t doing anything about it. - Martha squeezed his shoulder in agreement. - The girl, her name is Emily, she had a terrible fever and was drifting in and out. I managed to stabilize her, knocked down the fever with the simplest drugs. - Thomas scoffed, remembering how the easiest solution proved to be the exact thing he needed. - The mother looked at me almost as if I performed sorcery before her eyes.

Martha looked around, scanning the faces of the people mingling and drinking.

\- They don’t care about this city. They care about their money and their care about safety only if it concerns their own districts. I want to change that, Thomas. I want every child in the East End to have the same opportunities Jacob has. - She confessed, shifting her gaze to Thomas’s eyes.

\- Knocking down priceless artifacts? - Thomas smiled and Martha laughed at his joke, a sound he was growing to adore each time she graced him with it.

Martha bit her lip.

\- Would you mind… coming over to the orphanage tomorrow? If you’re not busy of course, I know you’re probably just as busy at the hospital as I am at the House.

Thomas didn’t hesitate to answer.

\- I would love that. I’ll bring over my kit, examine the kids, maybe vaccinate them.

She graced him with a big smile, reminding him of the way her little brother smiled when he told him he could keep the helmet.

\- Thank you, Thomas. For everything.

***

The Kanes were the last of the guests to leave. Their parents exchanged knowing glances through the rest of the evening and didn’t stop their silent charade even at the doors. Their fathers shook each others’ hands and their mothers kissed each other on the cheek while Thomas shuffled Jacob’s hair and promised him a rematch of their little game of chase. Martha gave him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek as they once again agreed on the hour of their planned visit. Long after the Kanes left, Thomas rubbed his cheek feeling like his stomach was about to burst.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you spot any mistakes and leave a comment if you enjoyed it!


End file.
